


Amor Creat Amorem

by brevitas



Series: Leader of the Muses [3]
Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, Greek Gods AU, M/M, Modern AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-01
Updated: 2013-03-01
Packaged: 2017-12-04 00:25:26
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,424
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/704357
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brevitas/pseuds/brevitas
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Grantaire comes to breakfast and Apollo is nice; naturally everybody is suspicious and Eponine hunts for a cause in her twin's rooms.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Amor Creat Amorem

Enjolras stares at him like he's something dark and slimy that has crawled out of an unexpected crack and he frowns when Grantaire hurries to say, "This isn't what it looks like."

The artist is smeared with paint, his hair a colorful monument to his work, and he nervously pushes it off his forehead as he stands. He's completely oblivious to the long streaks of color he leaves in its wake, and Enjolras traces the hue before he snaps his blue eyes back to Grantaire's.

"Oh."

He says nothing more and Grantaire lunges at the easy out, generating a faux smile as he straightens his shirt (his palm leaves a red print as a signature at the hem). Enjolras shifts his weight to one foot and looks at the painting again; it really is a lovely piece, and the colors are extraordinary. He's seen many of Grantaire's creations but this one is something else--when he blinks there's an afterimage of gold and red.

"I was wondering if you'd like to illustrate a banner for me," he says, clasping his hands together at his waist. Grantaire pauses and takes too long to reply, so Enjolras adds helpfully, "I'd been planning on asking you a few days ago but you were gone."

Suddenly it's as though everything _clicks_ , and Grantaire realizes that the painting Enjolras had mentioned to Jehan had not been some gritty, scarring illustration but a request for a favor--he hadn't seen any of The Paintings (the most important ones, the ones where Enjolras had been set to the backdrop of scrunched white sheets and glistening with sweat) at all. Grantaire is torn between disappointment and relief, and leans towards the one that gets him faster to the bottle.

"Sure," he says lamely, crossing the room to the threshold and putting a hand on the door. Enjolras steps back reflexively and Grantaire sighs when he says, "I'll talk to you about it tomorrow," before he lets the door swing shut between them. For a moment Enjolras lingers in the hallway, unused to Grantaire shooing him out, and frowns as he thinks about the painting.

+++++

Grantaire spends the night in his quarters and nobody hears from him, not even a peep; when breakfast rolls around the morning after the Amis are subdued.

Jehan sits on the counter next to the stove with a cup of tea in his hands and sips on it as he watches Combeferre cook. He has no special talent with food but he doesn't mind making sure they're fed, and they would've begged Bahorel like they usually did but he'd disappeared earlier on a 'mission' (everyone has noticed that Feuilly is mysteriously gone too, and share a few smiles with each other over how obvious they're being).

Courfeyrac is at the table and the least conscious out of all of them, slumped forward with his chin pillowed in an open palm. His eyes are narrowed and he straightens only to yawn, wishing he'd lingered in bed for a bit longer (only it was practically impossible to resist Jehan and when he'd had thrown open his blinds a half hour ago with a crowing, "Morning," and kissed his forehead and smelled like roses Courfeyrac really could only do so much).

"I haven't heard from Grantaire," Jehan says, and Combeferre frowns as he flips the eggs.

Bossuet mentions that he heard snoring when he'd walked by that morning and Joly confirms that Grantaire spent the night (his rooms are next door and the weather on Olympus is so lovely that most of them forget to close their windows at night), so Jehan tries not to worry and rubs a thumb along the lip of his mug. It's one he bought on Earth a long time ago and sports a fading graphic of a cat chasing a toy mouse.

Gavroche appears suddenly at the door, his presence heralded by a quiet _boom_. He grins at them as he hooks his thumbs at his waistband and comes into the kitchen. He's dressed in his traditional garb, one of the few gods to stubbornly keep the clothes they wore centuries ago and even has his famous sandals strapped on, the pair with the fluttering wings.

He thieves a piece of bacon out of the frying pan, munching on it as he leans against the counter by Jehan. He's so used to delivering messages that he doesn't pause before saying, "Enjolras is on his way," important because they always put off starting breakfast until Apollo can join them.

Courfeyrac rubs a hand through his messy hair and yawns again, glances up at Jehan. "Maybe you should check on our drunk," he suggests--he can tell that Jehan is worried. He keeps playing with a tiny thread of bleeding heart blossoms he has weaved in his hair and he only ever does that when he's nervous. 

He smiles a little at Courfeyrac, thinks about it for a beat, and then says decisively, "Alright, I will." They all wish him good luck and Courfeyrac takes his tea when he heads into the hall.

With most of the gods congregated in the kitchen the palace on Mount Olympus is quiet. A few bird-calls drift in through open windows and an eagle that he has to assume is Valjean's is perched on a balcony he passes, dozing. It's peaceful on mornings like these, where the most chaotic argument they have is whether to make bacon or sausage.

Grantaire's door is unlocked when he tries it and he slips into the room, set in a milky darkness. He has curtains pulled haphazardly over the windows but they're not thick enough to block the sun entirely, and Jehan can easily see the lump of his friend in the bed.

"Grantaire," he calls as he approaches, picking his way carefully across the floor. It looks like a freight train ran through here; art supplies are scattered with reason on the tiles and one easel is tipped over, lacking its canvas. Jehan looks curiously at it but passes without investigation, more concerned for Grantaire than he is for a missing painting.

He reaches the bed and Grantaire still has yet to react, his face mashed into his pillow. Jehan crawls up on the mattress beside him and shakes his shoulder. "Hey, Grantaire." He's speaking loud enough that he earns a groan, and he smiles when Grantaire flops ungracefully onto his back.

"Morning, sunshine," he greets, chipper as he tends to be, and Grantaire pushes at him without looking. Jehan laughs as he scoots away from his hand and eventually he gives up with another groan.

"...what are you even doing in here?" He asks, his voice husky from alcohol and sleep, and rubs at his eyes. 

Jehan folds his legs and smiles broadly at him, twirling his braid around a finger. "You're going to miss breakfast." Grantaire thinks about that for a moment (or he dozes off again) and finally sits up. He reeks of whiskey, and Jehan knows without asking that he drank himself into a stupor last night. What he _is_ curious about is why, and he tilts his head a few inches to the left as he watches Grantaire stretch.

He can't find a way to ask without being obvious so instead he offers, "Why happened to your painting?" and gestures at the naked easel. Grantaire squints at it, starts to say, "I don't fucking know," and then remembers that there _had_ been a painting there, the one he made last night that Enjolras saw. He frowns and clambers out of bed, kicking the sheets off and walking unsteadily to it.

"Huh." He scratches at the back of his neck and takes a glance around, Jehan watching him from the bed. "I guess I got rid of it."

He doesn't seem overly concerned so Jehan hops off the bed and encourages him to shower, winning the battle when Jehan mentions casually, "Enjolras is coming to breakfast." Grantaire bitches but he disappears into the bathroom all the same.

The cool shower wakes him up, and he scrubs at his skin under the stream until he's clean again, picking at dried paint on his forearm. He thinks about that painting again but his head hurts and it isn't like he's worried; more than likely he'd thrown it off his balcony and hoped it killed the mortal it landed on.

When he comes out Jehan is waiting for him, humming under his breath as he picks through Grantaire's supplies. He provides paint for both him and Feuilly (who has less cause to paint but still does) and most of the mixes are his own work. There's a spot of purple on his thumb where he's tested a dye he'd drawn from lavenders and smiles when he sees Grantaire, rubbing at his hair with a towel.

He gets dressed and follows Jehan to the kitchen, where the sounds of conversation are unmistakable. The poet skips in and is greeted with a raucous cheer from Courfeyrac and Grantaire follows him, gritting his teeth, wishing he'd taken a few precautions before he came out here still a little drunk.

Enjolras arrived while they were gone and Grantaire, head in his hands and looking nearly comatose, is the only one not to notice the way he looks over every inch of the drunkard. Curious, Courfeyrac elbows Eponine in the ribs (and is rewarded with an irritating, "Christ, Cour,") and asks, "What's up with Enjolras?"

She's salting her eggs and looks up at him from under her bangs, a sneaky thing. Cosette is to her right and sweetly eating her hashbrowns; from around her fork she says thoughtfully, "Something's different."

They all can agree on that. Enjolras brings Grantaire a plate and for a moment there is silence; then everybody is buzzing and whispering and Grantaire gives them all an irritated frown. Eponine can see that he smiles a bit to himself when he digs in though, because when was the last time Enjolras went out of his way to do something for Dionysus? He sits to his right and asks politely, "How was your night, Grantaire?"

If he's surprised by this sudden hospitality he hides it well. "Fine." He scoops eggs into his mouth and glances at Enjolras, grinning. "Yours?"

"Oh, it was fine." But Enjolras was up long into the morning, and he's a little tired. There's a smudge of red paint on his palm that Grantaire notices and frowns at, but he's distracted when Enjolras asks, "Have you decided about that banner?"

He flicks his gaze back to Enjolras' face and shrugs. "Sure, I can do it." There's something bothering him about the paint on Apollo's hand but his headache is too fierce to him to dwell on it for longer than a moment. He lets it go and favors a swig of coffee instead.

The rest of breakfast passes without drama (much to everyone's relief) and Enjolras and Grantaire are being perfectly amiable to one another. There's not one misstep in their entire conversation, and the only time Enjolras gets irritable is because Grantaire steals a strip of bacon from his plate (but he forgives faster than anyone has seen before, and even smiles when he gets up to get more).

The Amis scatter after the meal, all except Eponine, who has agreed to do the dishes, and Enjolras, who stays to keep her company when she asks. They're comfortable with each other and Enjolras takes a towel to dry without being asked, the twins moving in perfectly synchronicity. Thus, it comes as a bit of a surprise when Eponine inquires sweetly, "What did you do to Grantaire?" and Enjolras nearly drops a plate.

"Nothing," he says once he's set it down, looking sidelong at his sister. Eponine is apparently entirely focused on scrubbing a pan and doesn't meet his eyes.

"Really?" She asks, blowing soap bubbles off her hands. "Because you sure were being nice to him this morning."

Enjolras frowns, says tersely, "I'm allowed to be nice sometimes," and she laughs when she turns to face him.

"I'm not giving you shit for it, brother," she assures, and he deflates a bit, turning the pan over to dry the bottom. "I'm just saying--it's weird. Did something happen last night?"

He thins his lips and shakes his head. "No. Nothing at all."

Eponine lets it go after that and they talk about other things as they finish the dishes. Enjolras has to go down to Earth to gauge the political atmosphere in Egypt and she tells him to be careful when she kisses him on the forehead; he ruffles her hair when he disappears.

As soon as he's gone Eponine heads straight to his quarters, and waves open the doors. He has a huge window on the wall that's facing the sun and it's thrown wide open, lighting up the interior of his quarters. Eponine sees nothing out of the place but it doesn't quell her suspicion; she hunts through his bedroom and bathroom, finds nothing amiss and frowns when she looks at his library. It's not like it's off-limits to her but it feels rude to poke around in it when he's not around, and she hesitates before deciding it's not like she's going to _hurt_ something and pushes the door open.

She doesn't even have to go inside to see what's different, and gasps when her eyes light on it. "Oh my god," she says in a breath and then turns around, yanking the door closed.

"Hermes!" She calls loudly and Gavroche appears in front of her within the moment, chewing on a lollipop. All the gods are tuned in to their true names and can pinpoint the origin with a thought; it's useful in times like this, when Eponine regrets not keeping her phone on her.

"Gather the Amis," she tells him quickly, "But not Grantaire and Enjolras."

Gavroche cocks an eyebrow at her. They've always been close but that's doesn't lessen his penchant for asking why, and he opens his mouth to ask just that when she shushes him. "Just go."

He heaves a sigh and disappears, and Eponine tiptoes back to the library, pushing the door open but a crack. The painting is hung on the far wall, a splendid rendition of reds and oranges and golds and yellows, and it's breathtaking and quite obviously stolen. For a reason far beyond her, Enjolras found a picture Grantaire painted of him and took it and that changes _everything._

**Author's Note:**

> hey peeps, victory chapter because I lived through my Latin test this morning!
> 
> title Amor Creat Amorem is Latin for "love creates love", and I wrote this one myself so any issues with correct cases is my fault.
> 
> sorry there is such a tiny amount of e/r in this chapter; don't worry because next chapter that's pretty much all we're gonna see! Remember I love ALL of you guys.
> 
> oh and my tumblr is idfaciendumest if you want to follow me there!


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